


Run Nathania (Right Back Into My Arms)

by TopSideWolf



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: But Neil comes back because Andrew, Demisexual neil, Established Relationship, F/F, Gay Andrew Minyard, Running Away, Trauma, gender swap, ghost of Neil's mum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28682721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TopSideWolf/pseuds/TopSideWolf
Summary: Neil jolts awake in a cold sweat, heart pounding a million miles a minute and the ghost of her mother whisperingrun Nathaniain her ear.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Kudos: 33





	Run Nathania (Right Back Into My Arms)

Neil jolts awake in a cold sweat, heart pounding a million miles a minute and the ghost of her mother whispering run _Nathania in her ear_. 

Her eyes snap open and she flinches. She's face to face with a sleeping Andrew, who never looks this vulnerable, this peaceful when she's awake. 

_Run Nathania_. 

She hears the words rattle around her skull, filling her brain with fog

_Run Nathania_. 

Nathania thinks, _I can't be here_. 

On autopilot from so many years on the run she rolls out of bed, stuffs her folder and passport into her duffle, shucks off her pj's and replaces them with non-descript clothing, tugs on a beanie as an afterthought and fucking books it out of Fox Tower. 

She runs and runs and runs and she's not sure where she is going as long as it's not here and it's not still. 

The sun has risen fully and her stomach is starting to grumble when she slows to a walk and ducks into a minimart. She makes a beeline for the hair dye. 

Changing her appearance is a critical part of running. It's why the stop in motion is acceptable. It's why it didn't have her mother's ghost whispering _run_. 

Nathania does not waste time debating colours. Just picks up bleach and blonde dye. It's the only colour she hasn't dyed her hair in a while. 

It isn't difficult to find a public bathroom free of wandering eyes. She crams herself in and sets to work stripping the colour from her hair and replacing it with the blonde. It feels no different from being crammed with her mother in a public bathroom whilst they were on the run together. 

In a way she still is crammed in the bathroom, hunched over the filthy sink with her mother. The only difference this time is that it is her mother's ghost. 

Nathania throws the packaging in the bin and jostles it so the evidence is hidden by wads of paper towel and other suspect items. 

She stuffs the beanie back on her head once the hack dye job is done to hide her red roots.  
Her appearance is just different enough that she can still pass for the women in her passport photo. 

_Run_ , her mother's ghost urges. _Far away as you can. As fast as you can_. 

Nathania hears the whispers and her brain fills the gaps. Far away becomes not America. As fast becomes plane. 

She wanders around for an hour before she finds the bus stop she needs. Waits for another thirty minutes. Makes it to the airport in ninety minutes. 

_Not fast enough_ , her mother's ghost whispers. _Run faster_. 

She's vibrating with nervous energy when the bus pulls to her stop. Nathania practically tumbles down the steps and onto the sidewalk at the departure gate. 

She scans the flight board. Picks a flight that leaves in three hours to Mexico and only puts her out a grand and a half. She's not sure if she'll stay in Mexico but it's a good jump point due to corrupt law and order. 

She breezes through security with only her duffle. Finds her gate. She settles into a corner that puts the exits and all the strangers in her line of sight and a wall at her back. 

She still has time to kill. The waiting has her wanting to scream. She needs to run, is running. But running feels horribly like standing still. 

She pushes to her feet and just starts walking needing to move, to do something to leak out the nervous energy that is threatening to consume her whole. 

Nathania finds herself at a pay phone. She picks it up and dials Andrew's number. Doesn't realise she's called Andrew until Andrew picks up and says, "Neil?" 

Nathania breathes heavily into the receiver. 

"Where are you?" 

"I-" Nathania starts and aborts. Swallows. "Do you know what day it is?" 

Andrew's silence is heavy, a blanket tugging on Nathania's shoulders. Not a yes in words but a yes in what is not said. That she knows it's Nathania's twentieth birthday today. 

"I asked Neil Josten to stay." Andrew says finally. 

_Neil Josten_ , the name rattles through her skull, shaking the haze that's coated her mind since she woke away. _Neil Josten, Neil Josten, Neil Josten_. 

_Stay, stay, stay_. 

The urge to run that has been tugging at her all day, making her almost nauseous with the need to move, withers away like cigarette ash.

"Neil you chose to stay," Andrew says. "Didn't you?" 

"Okay," Neil whispers and hangs up. 

She speeds walks out of the airport and to the taxi rank, jumping in the nearest taxi uttering only the directions to PSU. 

It takes fifty minutes too long for the taxi to pull into the court parking lot. Neil had considered Fox Tower but it's afternoon practice time and she needs to see Andrew with her own two eyes. Needs to stub out the last of her urge to run like a still smouldering cigarette, almost out but not quite. 

She finds her team on the court getting yelled at by Wymack. It settles her slightly, the familiarity of it all. 

_Home_ , a voice whispers. A voice that doesn't belong to her murdered and burnt and buried mother. 

Neil shoulders her way through the plexiglass door. All eyes snap to her, silence ringing through the court. 

Wymack recovers first, "Where the hell have you been?" 

Neil doesn't answer just beelines for Andrew who's slumped over her racquet, clearly not intending to even humour the team by defending the goal. 

She stumbles to a stop in front of her, close enough to touch but not. She rocks unsteadily on her feet. Her centre of gravity close but just out of reach. 

Andrew pulls off her helmet, let's it bounce to a stop on the ground. She scans Neil from head to toe. Her gaze settles on the beanie. She reaches forward and rips it off, raising a singular unimpressed eyebrow at the dye job. 

"I ran," Neil says as an explanation even though she knows Andrew already knows, would have figured as much when she woke up with Neil and all her things gone, would have had it confirmed by the phone call. 

Neil thrusts the plane ticket at Andrew. Andrew glances at the flight destination, grabs the ticket and rips it in half. The two halves flutter down to the floor. 

"Mexico," Andrew says but Neil can still hear what she doesn't say. _I thought you were no longer a rabbit. I thought you were done running_. 

_Me too_ , is what Neil doesn't say. "I called you instead of hopping on the plane," is what she says instead. 

Behind her the foxes suck in a collective breath. A few what and fuck rattle between them as if they're finally realising Neil ran this morning with no intention of coming back. 

It's obvious from their reactions that they didn't expect this. That Andrew must have told them not to worry about her when she didn't show for morning or afternoon practice. 

Andrew just levels her with a bored stare. It settles Neil into her skin, burns out her last urge to run. Cements her want and need to stay. 

"I'm Neil Josten. But sometimes I might forget and need you to remind me." She holds out her passport to Andrew. "I need you to keep this safe for me. Just in case I forget." 

Andrew drops her racquet, takes Neil's passport with her right hand, grabs Neil's wrist with her left and starts dragging her off the court. 

"Where do you think you two are going?" Wymack demands. 

"Aaron, Nicky, Kevin," Andrew says, not stopping. "Catch a lift with Matt." 

Wymack steps in front of Andrew. From the set of his shoulders, Neil can tell he plans to stay rooted to the spot regardless of what Andrew will do. And what Andrew looks like she will do is continue walking right into and through Coach. 

Neil digs her heels in and tugs Andrew to stop.

Andrew and Coach glare at one another, a silent argument for only the two of them. 

Just when Neil thinks she's going to have to intervene lest Andrew gut Wymack and stain the polished floors red, Wymack nods and steps out of the way. 

"Keep me updated Minyard," Coach concedes. 

Andrew tugs Neil off the court, into the locker room where she exchanges exy gear for bag and keys, down the hallway and out into the carpark. She stuffs Neil into the passenger seat of the Maserati like she doesn't trust her not to bolt. Neil would be angry if not for the fact she did run this morning. 

They drive to Fox Tower in silence. Andrew with an unlit cigarette dangling between her lips. Neil with her knees pulled up her to her chest. 

It's only when the door to their dorm room clicks shut that Neil realises she's exhausted. That she only has energy to crawl into bed and sleep the rest of the day away. That she wants to shut her eyes on the rollercoaster of emotions today brought and wake up tomorrow where they can't touch her. 

"Drew," she breathes and hopes Andrew can hear everything Neil doesn't say. 

Andrew rolls her eyes with a long suffering sigh but steps into Neil's space and knocks the duffle from her shoulder. 

"Yes or no?" 

"Yes," Neil says. _Doesn't say, it's always a yes with you_. 

Andrew manhandles her to the shower. Turns the water on, strips Neil, pushes her under the spray. Steps into the spray a breath later, hands on Neil's biceps to keep her from sliding down the wall and onto the floor to sleep. 

Neil's lips twitch upwards as Andrew gently soaps up her body and washes her clean.  
Leans heavily into Andrew, her forehead against Andrew's front their only contact point as Andrew quickly washes herself. 

She herds them both out of the shower and towels them dry. 

With eyes closed, she lets Andrew lead her out of the bathroom and onto the bed. Neil slumps forward until her face is smooshed against the blanket. A wad of fabric smacks her on the back. She grunts but makes no move past that. 

"Neil."

Even words feel too hard right now. 

Andrew shakes her, "I can't dress a dead weight." 

Neil rolls onto her back, fumbles for the clothes and stuffs what she thinks is a shirt over her head without opening her eyes. She gets stuck halfway and debates just leaving it and falling asleep like that. Andrews hands tug the shirt the last bit on. Slides the undies onto Neil. 

"Drew," Neil mumbles, eyes still shut as she tilts her chin up. 

Andrew sighs but her lips press against hers, warm and hard edges and home.


End file.
